Solitary

Khao Niao lay still
on a patch of grass near her home

Her friends Peter and Mo Ping were gone,
and the dogs down the lane were a bit unfriendly,

but she howled along
with all the others in the neighborhood
each night once or twice,
whenever another began,

♫ ♫ ♫

and she was fine
alone

Quietly observing
and listening,

now and then going
on a walk around her garden,

sometimes eating a bit from her bowl,

and otherwise doing
nothing at all

Well connected with all around,
she flowed,

unbothered by innumerable thoughts
she simply was,
an expression of consciousness,
the Sea of Love

along with all the other beings

♫ ♫ ♫

Older now and letting go
slowly,
identity slipping away
and leaving only That behind